


Where We've Been

by kissoffools



Category: Ghostwriter
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Future Fic, Getting Together, Reunions, Yuletide Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 05:14:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2839343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissoffools/pseuds/kissoffools
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twelve years after Hurston Middle School, in the middle of the night, Jamal Jenkins gets a phone call.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where We've Been

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chicafrom3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicafrom3/gifts).



> Set twelve years after the finale of Ghostwriter, "Attack of the Slime Monster". Fic pulls most heavily from canon from the Season 2 episode, "Don't Stop the Music".

“Jamal?”

He knows her voice instantly. It’s been seven years since they last spoke, with a lot of ups and downs, with forgotten plans to meet up and messages that have gone unanswered. Nothing about his life is the same now as it was then. But her? He’ll never forget the way she sounds.

“Lenni? What’s going on?”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you actually picked up.” He can hear relief in her voice, and it’s strained, as if she’s been crying. Worry pings in his chest.

“Of course,” he says. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m—” There’s a pause, and he hears her swallow. “I’ll be fine. Are you still in New York? Your number’s still the same.”

“I’m in Queens. Why?”

“Could I… do you think I could come over?”

His eyes travel to the clock on his wall. Half past eleven. “Sure, if you have to.” He winces a little at his choice of words. He could’ve been a bit more welcoming… but then, she could’ve called at a normal hour. “Now?”

“Thank god, Jamal, you’re amazing. Will you text me your address?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I’ll text you right now.”

“You’re the best,” she says, and Jamal can hear relief in her voice. “I’ll be there soon.”

He’s left staring at his phone, long after hanging up, brow furrowed as he tries to make sense of the call he just got. They haven’t seen each other in eight years, and haven’t spoken in seven. It’s been twelve since they were friends. The last thing he’d ever expected was to get a late night SOS call with her voice on the other end. It’s left him a little shaken and a lot confused. _Why are you calling now?_ , he wants to know.

_Why me?_

***

It isn’t raining when Lenni arrives on Jamal’s doorstep, but she looks a little like a drowned rat anyway.

“Jesus, Len,” he murmurs when he sees her, taking her all in. Her hair mussed and stringy, her clothes a little baggier than they should be. She’s skinnier than he remembers. “Come on in. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” she says, following him into his basement apartment. “God, it’s so good to see you.” Her arms are around him almost at once, chin tucked up against his shoulder, hugging him tight enough he can barely breathe. He holds onto her because he feels like she needs it.

He can’t remember the last time he’s felt this worried about someone. 

Jamal gets her a glass of water and settles her in his little living room. “It’s not much,” he says with a shrug. “Nowhere near what you’re used to, unfortunately.” He’s seen the articles, the music videos, her face on albums in the stores. She’s a big deal, he knows that. Which is why her being here makes absolutely no sense.

That, and the fact that she stopped speaking to him seven years ago.

Lenni shoots him a wry smile, taking a small sip of water. “I’m not doing that stuff anymore.”

He’s floored. “What?”

“Trust me, J, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

He raises his eyebrows. He remembers Lenni, back then—how special her music was to her, how she could barely go a day without playing or writing or singing. He has a hard time even fathoming that this Lenni sitting in front of him could be any different. “Really?”

She shakes her head. “Everyone’s got an opinion, and each opinion is all about you. And half of them are liars,” she says. “It’s enough to make you go crazy.”

“Is that why you’re here?”

She snorts. “Because I’m crazy?”

Jamal winces a little. Obviously old wounds don’t heal as neatly as he thought they did. “Sorry. I don’t think you’re crazy,” he tells her. “I just meant… from everything I could see, the music world loved you. I actually stopped telling people I used to know you because everyone would ask me to get them your autograph.”

He could see her expression falter, just for a moment. “Used to know me, huh?”

“I mean…” He scratches the back of his neck nervously. “It’s not like we talk now or anything. We’re not friends anymore.”

And she crumbles. Her whole demeanor droops, and she sinks back into the couch, the little light left in her eyes vanishing. Jamal’s heart twinges a little for her. He’s upset and maybe even a little resentful over the way things ended between them, but he never wanted to see her hurt. He never wanted to be the one that hurt her.

“You’re right,” she says quietly. “I should probably go.”

“Lenni—”

“No, you’re totally right!” She stands. “I haven’t talked to you in years. Hell, I’m lucky you actually even took my call. I’m sorry, Jamal, I shouldn’t have come here.”

He grabs her wrist as she brushes past him, slowing her down. She hesitates, turning back towards him.

“I’m so sorry,” she finally says, and the pain in her voice is clear. “I’m so sorry for disappearing on you.”

He never could stay mad at Lenni.

“Tell me what happened,” Jamal says softly. “Please?”

This time, she sinks down next to him on the couch.

“I wish I could explain what it feels like.” She runs a hand through her hair. “Having everyone behind you. A whole team designed specifically to push your music, to work you hard and make you a star. Everyone saying, ‘Yes, Lenni! This is perfect and you’re amazing!’. They all build you up, you know? It goes to your head. And you feel so encouraged that the money doesn’t matter. Studio time, merchandise, licensing, tour costs. It all feels worth it because you’re going to make it all back—that’s the big thing you hear. ‘You’re going to make millions!’ Yeah, someone’s making millions—Smash Records. You’re lucky to see five percent.”

“Five percent?” Jamal repeats incredulously.

“It would’ve been more if Napster didn’t gouge holes into everyone’s bottom line. And the execs weren’t the ones taking the hits for that, let me tell you,” she continues. “MTV doesn’t run music videos like they used to. Album sales are down. Top 40 is changing—the moneymakers are changing. And before you know it, you owe the company thousands and your producer boyfriend’s dumping you because you can’t pay your half of the rent on your Manhattan three-bedroom.”

Jamal shakes his head, his arm sliding around her without him even realizing it. She’s hurting, he can tell, and all he wants to do is take the edge off. Anything to make her feel a little bit better.

“He tells you to be out by the time he gets home from the studio, so you pack up a bag of crap and call the only number you can remember when you’re crying and wandering around in thirty degree weather.” She shoots him a little smile. “Yours.”

“I’m glad you called,” he says immediately, and she shakes her head.

“I’m sorry I had to,” Lenni says. “You deserve way better than old middle school friends calling you and needing to be rescued.”

“I’d have rescued you then, so I’m rescuing you now.” He smiles a little, pulling her in closer. She rests her head on his shoulder and sighs.

“I’m sorry I stopped talking to you and the team.”

“We went to different high schools, and we were about to start college,” Jamal says. “It sucked, but it wasn’t so surprising.”

“You kept in touch,” she points out. “You probably know exactly what Alex and Gaby and Tina are up to right now.”

“Alex is running his dad’s bodega so that his parents could retire,” Jamal says with a little smile. “Gaby is writing and finishing up a performing arts degree at New York College, and Tina’s working in web design.”

Lenni smiles—wider, this time, the first genuine smile Jamal has seen on her face that night. “You always were the one keeping us all together.”

He shrugs. “You guys mean a lot to me.” 

She scrubs her hand over her forehead, eyes closing briefly before shaking herself back to the present. “So what are you doing now, huh? Did you wind up going to teacher’s college?”

Jamal can’t help but beam a little. “I teach biology at Queens High School for the Sciences.”

“Jamal!” she cries, shoving him gently. “That’s amazing!”

“Thanks,” he says proudly. “I love it.”

Lenni smiles up at him. “I always knew you’d make a difference.” 

“I don’t know.” He chuckles. “Ask my students on pop quiz day and I don’t think they’d feel that way at all.”

She shakes her head firmly. “No, I mean it,” she argues. “You’re making a difference for these kids, whether they know it yet or not.”

“You think?”

“You made a difference for me, all those years ago,” she says softly, eyes meeting his. The air feels thicker, all of a sudden, and Jamal couldn’t pull away from her if he tried. “It just took me awhile to realize it.”

He isn’t planning to kiss her. She’s vulnerable, she’s been through a lot, and she’s just broken up with some douchebag producer boyfriend. They haven’t seen each other in years. He doesn’t know her anymore, and she doesn’t know him.

But he knew her then—and he wanted to kiss her, then. So when his lips drift down to brush against hers, all of those feelings come screaming back to him. 

Her hand tightens on his arm, and she meets his kiss halfway.

Jamal doesn’t see stars when he kisses Lenni. No romantic music fills his ears, and he isn’t dizzy and breathless. But he’s comfortable. He feels relaxed and safe, and every part of him wants to lean into her more. Every nerve in his body is saying, _finally_.

When they pull apart, his lips tingle.

“Holy shit,” she breathes.

His eyes find hers again, searching. “Was that totally crazy?” 

“Yeah,” she says, and then she giggles. Actually giggles. “But I like crazy.”

His face breaks out into a grin. “Me too. And hey, listen...” He presses his lips together nervously for a moment as he collects his thoughts. “I know you’re going through a lot right now. I don’t want you to think I’m expecting anything here.”

“Expecting anything?” She raises an eyebrow playfully. “Whatever could you be expecting, Jamal?”

“I’m serious!” He bumps her shoulder with his own. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, and I don’t want to jump into anything. I just didn’t want to miss out on something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

Lenni smiles at him, her hand sliding up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m glad you did.”

She rests against him for a long while, his arms around her, one hand absent-mindedly stroking her hair. They’re quiet, for the most part, the silence occasionally broken with a memory or a question. He’s getting to know her all over again, re-learning her quirks and speech patterns and smiles. But he’s discovering new things, too—the warmth of her skin, the press of her body against his. Things are old and familiar and new and exciting, all at once. He doesn’t know what any of this means, but he’s interested. He’s excited.

“So what now?” he asks, finally.

Lenni sighs. “I don’t know,” she admits. “I have literally no game plan. I don’t have a place to live, my contract lapsed, and I’m totally broke. Oh, and my Dad moved to Florida so I can’t even do the pathetic move-back-home-after-failing thing.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.” She laughs. “I’m kind of fucked, huh?”

Jamal shakes his head. “You’ve got me.” He pokes her side and makes her wriggle a little—she’s always been ticklish. “That’s a start, right?”

“It’s not the worst thing in the world,” she says with an exaggerated shrug. 

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Between the two of us, we’ll figure it out. We used to be pretty good at solving things.”

“We did,” she agrees. “Hey… he’s not still around, is he?”

“Ghostwriter?”

She nods.

“I don’t know,” Jamal says truthfully. “The less the team interacted, the more he sort of started to fade, you know? I don’t know if he moved on to some other kids or if he just kind of faded away for good.”

“I saw him once, on my first tour,” Lenni recalls. “He left me a good luck message backstage. But other people were around, and I was so worried about looking professional that I didn’t answer him.” She bites her lip. “I was kind of a jerk, wasn’t I?”

Jamal runs a hand through her hair. “Nobody’s perfect.”

“I miss him, though. I think about him sometimes.”

“So do I.”

“Hey. I wonder…” She gives him an impish little smile before grabbing her purse and digging through it. He figures out exactly what she’s about to do right before she produces the pen and has a pad of paper already waiting.

“You think?”

“Why not, right?” And, in big bold letters, she writes _RALLY L_ across the page.

They sit and stare at the words together, but nothing happens.

After a moment or two, Lenni visibly deflates. She sinks against Jamal’s shoulder. “Damn,” she says softly. “I thought it’d work.”

“Maybe he’s just not out there anymore.” He wraps an arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his chest. “Maybe he moved on.”

“Yeah,” she says, “maybe. I guess nobody wants to be a ghost forever.”

“It’s probably better this way.”

And then Lenni’s words light up.

She sits straight up, staring at the pad of paper. “Oh my god.” She blinks. “Oh my god! It’s him!”

“Holy shit,” Jamal murmurs. He watches as Ghostwriter bounces around the apartment, lighting up the magazines, the newspapers, the fridge magnets. Then, in the air, a message:

GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN, JAMAL AND LENNI! I MISSED YOU. EXCITED TO RALLY AGAIN!

Jamal’s phone rings.

He’s barely paying attention when he picks it up, still staring, stunned, at the words floating above their heads. “Hello?”

“Jamal?” Another familiar voice

He jolts, catching Lenni’s eye. “It’s Alex,” he mouths.

“Holy shit,” Jamal says again.

“Man, did you just…”

“Yeah, I got it too,” Jamal says into the phone. He grins at Lenni and she beams back at him, grabbing the pad of paper to write back to Ghostwriter.

“Ghostwriter’s back?” Alex asks. “Lenni’s back?”

“We all are,” Jamal says. “So you’d better get your butt up to Queens.”

When he hangs up the phone, he can’t help but grab Lenni and pull her into him, pressing an excited kiss to her lips. She laughs, pecking his cheek twice for good measure, and bounces a little in his arms.

“They’re coming?”

“They’re all coming,” he tells her. He kisses her temple. “And it’s all going to be okay.”

“I know.” Her hand finds his, squeezing it tight, and Jamal can’t remember the last time his heart skipped a beat like this. “I knew that as soon as I called you.”

“I’m really glad you did.”

“Me too.”

Things aren't perfect—Jamal doesn't know what Lenni’s going to do or where their relationship is headed, or if they’re just rushing into things and this is even a good idea at all. But Ghostwriter is back, Alex is on his way, and Lenni is finally here, in his arms, talking to him again. Things feel right. He doesn’t know what the future holds, or where they’re all going to wind up, but he knows now that they can face it—all together.

 

_end._

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Yuletide, chicafrom3! I was ecstatic when I saw your request for Ghostwriter and Jamal/Lenni - I loved the show so much as a child, and I'm pretty sure Jamal/Lenni was one of baby's first ships for me. I absolutely had to put something together for you for Yuletide this year. I know this likely wasn't exactly what you were hoping for when you made your request, but I hope it's still enjoyable for you to read! Thanks for giving such great prompts and writing such an enthusiastic letter. :)
> 
> Thanks so much for the anonymous encouragement I got with this story! And extra thanks to my beta, who helped me whip this into shape in time.


End file.
